


Way Down Under the Ground

by Freezeurbrain



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, Gay, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Michael being a gay icon, No Happy Ending Fest, Romance, The Hadestown AU no one asked for, Tragedy, this doesn’t end well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freezeurbrain/pseuds/Freezeurbrain
Summary: In a world of gods and men, two lonely hearts find one another.





	1. Chapter 1

_Once upon a time, there was a railroad line. Don’t ask me where, or when. All I know is that it was no ordinary rail line. It was a road... a road to hell._

_It was hard times back then. People had to choose happiness or survival. Back then, there were two worlds: the world of gods, and the world of men._

_There were three women on that railroad line, all of them dressed the same. Brooke, the golden-haired spinner of life. Chloe, the ever-present measurer of time. Jenna, the all-knowing angel of death. They may have looked frail and unassuming, but those three women held insurmountable amounts of power, in fact, it was rumored even the Underworld King himself feared them. Everyone called them... the Fates._

_That railroad line happened to lead to a station. And if you got to that station at the right time, you’d see a very dapper man with feathers on his feet. This man would be willing to help you to wherever your final destination was, not for free, but still. He was a messenger, renowned for the speed at which he delivered the messages he had been entrusted with. They called him Michael... and “he” would be me._

_Whatever you’re thinking... this isn’t a happy story. It’s a very tragic one, in fact. But we tell it anyway. Why that is, I don’t know. Is it to learn from the past? To guide us in the present? To influence the future? Or is it just a twisted ride, a downward spiral of your hope?_

_A man was stepping down off of a railroad car onto that station. The earth around him sensed his presence and began to grow again, from the cold and bitter shell of winter to the lush green warmth of summer. This man was a god of spring, with summertime in his heart. They called him Rich._

_And near that railroad line on that road to hell, there was a young man down on bended knee. Love and promises melted together in the air, mixing between two people in that special, magical moment. And that begins the tale, our tail, of Jeremy and Christine._

_This isn’t a happy story, but it is a love story. A tale of love that never dies, no matter how much the world around it tries to kill it. It’s the saddest kind of love story. It’s about someone who tries. ___

__***_ _

__The old bar had seen better days. A dull, wooden floor creaked under Jeremy’s feet as he made his way through the establishment. The room was illuminated by candles almost burned down, wax dripping onto the unpolished tables. Patrons all around Jeremy were engaged in lively conversations over drinks. Someone offered him a glass filled with amber liquid, but Jeremy shook his head. He wasn’t interested in drinking, not tonight at least. The task he had in mind for tonight required him to be completely sober._ _

__“Excuse me.” Jeremy walked up to the bar, where a man was cleaning a glass. “Do you know where I can find the manager?”_ _

__The bartender gave a harsh laugh. “I am the manager, kid. What do you want?”_ _

__“I want to play in your bar.” Jeremy stated plainly. To his dismay, the bartender began to chuckle._ _

__“Play? Play what, kid? Your tambourine?”_ _

__Jeremy shook his head. “No. I have a guitar.”_ _

__“Kid, if I let every yahoo with an instrument play here, I would have a club, not a bar.” The bartender rolled his eyes. “If you’re not gonna drink, go home.”_ _

__“Let the kid play, Dustin.” A cool, collected voice broke into the conversation, and Jeremy turned to see another man wearing a black button-down shirt, red jacket, and black dress pants._ _

__“Michael...” The bartender’s voice trailed off._ _

__“Hey, it can’t hurt.” Michael shrugged and took a sip of his drink, something clear with a lime on the rim of his glass._ _

__“It can hurt. Like, scare off my customers. I’m a business owner, Mike.” Dustin scoffed._ _

__“If you let him play, I’ll owe you one.” Michael winked._ _

__Dustin sighed. “You’re _so_ lucky I love you.” _ _

__“Does this mean I can play?” Jeremy asked, not even bothering to conceal the hope in his voice._ _

__Dustin gestured to a small stage set up in the corner of the bar. “Go ahead. But if a riot starts, you’re washing dishes to pay for damages.”_ _

__Jeremy nodded vigorously. “Yes sir. You won’t regret this.”_ _

__As Jeremy walked away, he could have sworn he heard Dustin mumble something that sounded like “too late”, but he pushed that to the back of his mind as he stepped up onto the stage. Looking out over the crowd of bar patrons, his heart hammering in his chest, Jeremy was starting to regret ever asking to play in the first place. Still, he would be damned if he backed out now._ _

__Holding his guitar with both hands, Jeremy cleated his throat in an attempt to get the attention of the crowd, but his efforts were lost in the noise and hubbub._ _

__“Excuse me.” He said, a bit louder this time. A few people towards the front of the stage turned to look at him, but the majority of the crowd stayed focused on their own conversations._ _

__Michael seemed to notice that Jeremy was having some trouble, and yelled, “Hey!” The sound reverberated off of the wooden walls like thunder, quieting everyone down._ _

__Now, everyone’s eyes were on Jeremy. He hoped no one could see his face heating up._ _

__“Are you gonna sing?” A woman’s angry voice from somewhere in the back cut through the air, quickly backed up by similar remarks from around the crowd._ _

__Jeremy didn’t directly answer. Instead, he gripped his guitar firmly in his hands and strummed out the opening to the song he’d been working on for months now. It was supposed to be about a woman and a man who both knew their relationship was going to end badly, but neither of them could bring themselves to break it off. Even though they knew it would cause them more pain in the long run, they still had the memories of good times cemented into their minds, which made them unwilling to let go._ _

__Jeremy almost never looked into the crowd while he was performing, but in this specific instance, he made an exception. Throughout the crowd, people were actually tearing up. One woman sniffled, and Jeremy could have sworn he heard a man choking back a sob around the bridge. That made happiness swell in Jeremy’s chest. If people were getting emotional, that meant his song was working._ _

__When he finished, the bar broke out in applause. Jeremy felt silly standing on the stage while people clapped, so he just took a short, awkward bow and hurried back to the bar._ _

__“Damn, son.” Michael slapped Jeremy on the back. “That was something else.”_ _

__“I’ll say. You brought the whole house to tears.” Dustin smirked. “Certainly proved me wrong.”_ _

__Jeremy smiled weakly. “Just... glad I got through it in one piece.”_ _

__“Ever thought about making a living with that guitar?” Michael took another sip of his drink._ _

__Jeremy nodded. “I try to, anyway. I go around to bars and stuff, ask to play. If I’m lucky, I get enough tips for food and board.”_ _

__“Sounds pretty hit or miss.” Michael raised an eyebrow._ _

__“Yeah, it is.” Jeremy sighed. “Usually I end up camping with some other friendly people, or sleeping in lodges if I can afford it. I actually like camping better, to be honest.”_ _

__“And why’s that?” Dustin leaned onto the bar, picking up Michael’s drink and taking a sip._ _

__“Well, I get to sleep under the stars. You can’t buy the sky. And sometimes I play for the other people in the camp. They can’t give me much, but I don’t mind. I don’t play for money.”_ _

__“What do you play for, then?” Michael asked, one eyebrow raised._ _

__“I play to change the world.” Jeremy said, running his fingers absentmindedly down the wood of his guitar. “I know that someday, I can.”_ _

__“With that guitar, you just might be able to, kid.” Michael smirked and fished something out of his pocket. “For your troubles.”_ _

__Jeremy caught it as Michael flicked it through the air, and paused to examine it. It was a gold coin, just like any other tip Jeremy would have gotten, except for one small detail. On the front of the coin, instead of the usual design, an image of a staff with two snakes curled around it had been stamped into the metal._ _

__“What-“ Jeremy looked up, but Michael and Dustin were already gone._ _

__***_ _

__Later that night, after paying for his drink and leaving the bar, Jeremy returned to the campsite where he’d been staying for the past week. When he arrived, however, he was surprised to see a new face sitting around the fire. It was a girl, probably around Jeremy’s age, with short black hair that fell to her chin and angular brown eyes, her skin a tawny beige color._ _

__“Jeremy.” Vanessa, the woman who ran the camp, stood up from where she had been tending the fire. “You’re back.”_ _

__Jeremy nodded, his gaze still fixated on the mysterious girl._ _

__“This is Christine.” Vanessa gestured to the girl, who gave a small, apprehensive wave. “She just got here.”_ _

__“Hey.” Jeremy waved back to Christine and gave a small smile._ _

__“Heather’s about finished with dinner.” Vanessa said. “Make yourself comfortable.”_ _

__Jeremy sat down on the grass next to Christine, and he couldn’t help but cast a glance at her. The firelight cast shadows that danced across her face, illuminating her features. There was no getting around it- she was beautiful._ _

__“Did you get much?” Sonya, another person who lived at the camp, asked._ _

__Her words snapped Jeremy out of his trance. “Some.” Jeremy reached into the leather pouch he kept tied to his belt and pulled out the coin Michael had given him. “This one guy, he gave me this one.”_ _

__Christine took the coin from Jeremy’s hands and examined it, holding it up to the firelight and illuminating the design on the back. “Weird.”_ _

__She handed the coin back to Jeremy, who put it back into the pouch and pulled the drawstring shut. For some inexplicable reason, he still couldn’t take his eyes off of Christine._ _

__***_ _

___Now, Christine was a girl who had spent her whole life running. Wherever she went, whoever she met along the way, she never stayed for long. However, when she met Jeremy... something inside of her told her to stay. It was the voice of her heart, which she had long ignored in favor of the more sensible call of her head. Her head was what helped her survive, after all, not her heart._ _ _

_The heart’s voice is small, but it’s powerful. Despite Christine’s head telling her to keep running, her heart won. One day in that campsite became a week. A week became a month. And all the while, Christine and Jeremy grew closer._

_It was love at first sight, in Jeremy’s case. Not so much for Christine. She’d been hurt by a man before, and she didn’t want to get hurt again. But as she and Jeremy got to know each other, her feelings took her by surprise. Love blossomed between the two lonely souls who had somehow managed to find each other._

_Finally, three years after they’d first met, long after the two of them had moved on from that campsite where they’d first laid eyes on one another, Jeremy got down on one knee and asked Christine to marry him._

_And both Christine’s head and her heart said the exact same thing- yes._


	2. Chapter 2

_The cold winter had passed, and it was time for spring to begin again. And as the frost faded into green grass, it was the time for another passenger to step off the train on that railroad line to hell._

_The reason the winds changed as that passenger stepped off the train? This man was none other than the god of spring, Rich. And it was time for him to return to the surface, after six months in the Underworld with his husband._

_There had once been love between the two kings, as sweet and tender as the spring’s blossoms. A king of flowers, a king of fields, had happened upon the king of the Underworld and all of its riches. They say Eros himself looked directly down onto them that day and blessed them with a love so powerful, Rich was willing to give up life in the mortal world to be with the Underworld King._

_However, as soon as Rich departed from the surface, the earth cried out in pain from his absence. The crops refused to grow, and the trees refused to bear fruit. Slowly, the citizens of the mortal world began to starve._

_Rich couldn’t bear to see the world in such suffering while he was so happy, and so he and his husband came up with a compromise. Rich would stay in the mortal world for half of the year, allowing the plants to grow and giving the mortals time to grow and store food for when he boarded the train and left for the Underworld._

_However, even the gods are not immune to the side effects of love. The absence of his husband for so long out of the year hardened the Underworld King. He became harsher, more closed off from his subjects that he had once held so dear. The kings began fighting, and when they were, it was said that the entirety of the Underworld shook from the forces of their anger. A love that had once been so strong became tainted with anger and unhappiness._

_And that is the tragedy of King Rich Goranski and King Jake Dillinger._

***

Rich had always been a man of the outdoors. Being married to the literal King of the Underworld hampered that just a little. It was hard to enjoy yourself when you were confined to a dark, dreary cave six months out of every twelve. 

Still, the summer winds began to blow as soon as he stepped off of the train. Frost and ice melted into the ground, giving way to blooming plants and flowering trees. Despite the happiness he felt at feeling the sun shine on his face for the first time in six long months, a small part of him recoiled at the sight of the frost on the ground. It reminded him too much of the suffering that he had almost damned the mortal world to an eternity of. 

“Mister Rich.” A calm, syrupy voice drew Rich’s attention away from the rapidly melting frost. 

“Michael.” Rich had to smile at the sight of his old friend. 

“How’ve you been? Hadestown been treating you alright?” 

Rich sighed. “Same as always. I was bored to death.” 

He didn’t catch his own pun until it was already out of his mouth, and Michael suppressed a chuckle. “Sounds like you need a drink, man.” 

“Yeah.” Rich scoffed. “Guess I do.” 

As soon as Rich stepped onto the grass, small white flowers began to grow where he had stepped. Already, he was warming up, his body still accustomed to the cold, damp air of the Underworld.

“Hold up, champ.” Michael put a hand on Rich’s shoulder. “You can’t go around dressed like that anymore.” 

Rich followed Michael’s gaze to his cape, woven of grass and flowers. It was lovely, but not something he could wear if he wanted to lie low in the world of mortals. “Oh. Right.” 

With a wave of his hand and a bit of glamour, his outfit changed into something more... suited to the mortal world. A simple cream-colored shirt, brown pants, and hard-soled brown shoes. The only indication of his true identity as the god of spring remained in the form of a small carnation in his shirt pocket.

“That’s more like it.” Michael said. “Now, I know a place that has the best apple wine in these parts.” 

“Yes please.” Rich smiled. “I need to make up for all the time I couldn’t get _real_ drinks down in literal hell.” 

The place Michael ended up taking him was an outdoor bar, illuminated by paper lanterns strung from wooden posts. Small garlands of flowers had been strung around the whole place. Clearly, there was some kind of celebration going on for the first day of spring. 

A young man, probably no more than twenty was standing on a platform raised slightly above the crowd, clutching a guitar in his hands. 

“Who’s that?” Rich asked, careful to avoid getting a drink spilled on him. 

“That’s Jeremy. Ran into him a few years back. I know I have a reputation for stretching the truth, but trust me when I say that his singing is actually good. For a mortal.” Michael said. “I’m gonna get a drink.” 

Rich couldn’t help himself. Something Michael had said about this mortal boy piqued his interest, and he found himself moving through the crowd, drawing closer to the stage. 

“This next song is about something most of you have probably heard about.” The singer, Jeremy, spoke into a microphone. “Have you all ever wondered about why the seasons change?” 

Rich felt his back unconsciously tense up. He knew what was coming, but he couldn’t speak up. While he was here, he wasn’t a god. He was just a traveler, passing through, no one giving him a second glance. 

“Well, gather round, and I’ll tell you.” Jeremy strummed out a chord on his guitar and began to sing. 

Michael hadn’t been lying. This guy _could_ sing. He made it look almost effortless, like the words were already in his mind and the only thing he had to do was sing them. And sing he did. 

This was a story Rich knew by heart. It was _his_ story. But the way Jeremy sang it, Rich felt like he was an outsider, hearing it for the first time. 

It made him think of the day he’d met Jake, in a flower field. Both of them so much more idealistic and foolish. Believing that anything could happen, even their own love. 

Jake convinced that he could build a kingdom for Rich. 

Rich convinced that he could build a life with Jake.

_We were both wrong._ Rich thought bitterly, hot tears pricking at his eyes. 

He was crying by the end of Jeremy’s song. And he wasn’t alone. Nearly every person in the crowd was shedding a few tears, if not full-on crying. There was no way you _couldn’t_ cry. The song was pure emotion, raw and real. 

“I told you he was good.” Rich had been so absorbed in the music, he hadn’t even noticed Michael walking up behind him, two shot glasses in his hands.

“Yeah.” Rich nodded, grabbing one of the shot glasses and slamming it back. The liquor burned his throat, but it helped him get the tears out of his eyes before Michael noticed. “Yeah, he was.” 

If Michael saw how much Rich had been affected by Jeremy’s song, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he pointed to where that Jeremy guy stood by a group of other people, lifting a cup in the air. “He’s talking about your man.”

“Now, here’s what I want to know.” Jeremy said, taking a sip of his drink. 

Rich curiously made his way over to the group. 

“Why would a man of his own free will go to work all day in the dark and underground?” Jeremy asked. 

Rich couldn’t stop himself from huffing. “You think I give a damn?” He muttered. 

“What was that?” Jeremy looked at Rich. 

“I said, you think I give a damn?” Rich said, louder this time. “We can’t understand those people. What we can do is enjoy the time we have before we have to go down there with ‘em.” 

Jeremy nodded, a grin on his face. “Sure, no one here is a millionaire, but we share what we have.” He lifted his cup up into the air. “I propose a toast to the patron of all of this, Rich, who has finally returned to us.” 

“Here, here!” The group around Jeremy lifted their cups into the air, the alcohol coming dangerously close to spilling. 

“And he brings this world back to life, asking nothing in return except that we might live and learn to live as brothers in this life. Because if no one takes too much, he will always fill our cups. And we will always raise them up to the world we dream about, and the one we live in now.”

_The summer passed in that way. The crops grew, the sun rose and set, and, just for a moment there, the world came back to life._


End file.
